


Marshmallow Fluff

by cruisedirector, Dementordelta



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cabins, Community: snape_potter, Crush, Fluff, Food, HP: EWE, M/M, Magic, Marshmallows, Romance, Scars, Secret Snarry, Snow, Snowed In, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-28 18:19:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/310765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruisedirector/pseuds/cruisedirector, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dementordelta/pseuds/Dementordelta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry plans to spend New Year's Eve roasting marshmallows. Someone else has other plans for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marshmallow Fluff

**Author's Note:**

  * For [torino10154](https://archiveofourown.org/users/torino10154/gifts).



> Our Secret Snarry recipient wanted snow and getting warm by the fire, with romance and a happy ending. Hope this helps create a happy holiday season! Many thanks to Celandine and Emynn for beta and suggestions.

Whatever Harry Potter might have been expecting, it hadn't been this. Not the cabin walls creaking as the wind howled outside, not the drifts of snow that piled up against the window and made the path to the door disappear.

Harry had always thought of the spell to make it snow as one of the more innocuous uses of magic -- something one might use brighten a cold evening or even cast accidentally while waving one's wand around in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. It had not occurred to him that magical snow could be dangerous, posing any greater risk than a twisted ankle or a chilled head.

The Hot-Air Charm that he aimed out the window had no effect whatsoever.

If Hermione had been there, Harry knew, she'd tell him that he'd only got what he deserved, sitting alone on New Year's Eve experimenting with magic instead of joining his friends in London. She had Ron were throwing a party and most of their friends would be there -- Neville and Luna, Dean and Ginny, Lavender... who was bringing Cormac as her date, which didn't please Hermione at all. Even George had agreed to come, though since Fred's death, George was much less social than he used to be.

"You can't spend the whole holiday season moping. Even Snape wouldn't wish that on you," Hermione had said, but Harry still didn't feel like going to a party. One day he'd been overjoyed to learn that Snape had survived after all, and the next, he'd discovered that Snape had disappeared, leaving no trace of his whereabouts. At first Harry had been concerned, then angry, and when weeks had stretched into months, gloom had settled over him like unfinished business.

Another glance at the white shrouded window convinced him that he was well and truly settled in for the night at least, so Harry decided to make the best of it. He could always Apparate home if his own company grew too oppressive. He lit the fire waiting in the grate, brightening the place at once and chasing away the shadows -- the physical ones if not the mental ones.

Unpacking his supplies was an easy, mindless chore. He only had the cabin for the long New Year's weekend. He wasn't brooding, he told himself, despite the echo of Hermione's voice assuring him otherwise. Would someone who was brooding bring marshmallows to toast?

As if that decided it, Harry tossed the bag full of fluffy white sugary pillows in one hand. He'd brought along sweet biscuits and chocolate bars to add to the decadence of his planned evening ahead. Looking around for something to use to skewer the marshmallows over the fire, Harry kept the unopened bag in one hand. The cabin decor was rustic, though in some designer's cheerful concept rather than any true functionality. Still, there weren't any spare twigs lying about.

Harry eyed the window, deciding the snow spell was still running its course, so he would not be going outside to look for sticks there. He reached for his wand, about to transfigure an andiron when he heard a noise. Well, _another_ noise, because he'd been hearing the wind roaring all around the cabin and boards creaking and adjusting to the force of the gusts. This sounded more like something knocking against the side of the house. No, more like pounding -- yes -- definitely something that wasn't wind. Perhaps the weight of the snow had knocked a board loose.

Then it came again and Harry was able to pinpoint the direction. It was the door. Something was knocking close to the door. Clutching the bag of marshmallows, Harry raised his wand. Not close to the door, on the door itself, as if being laid upon by a persistent fist. Wand at the ready, Harry wrenched the door open.

Severus Snape, snow dusting his collar and sleeves, nearly fell inside, hand poised to pound once more on the door. "What the devil have you been doing, you idiot boy, roasting marshmallows?" he snarled.

"I -- uh --" Harry looked down at the plastic bag he still had clenched to his chest like a pillow. "Snape?"

"Who else would track you down out here in the middle of bloody nowhere?" He brushed snow off his sleeves, still poised on the threshold. "In a decidedly unnatural snowstorm?"

"Snape?" Harry echoed, lowering his wand.

"If you don't invite me in within the next two seconds you will never see me ag-"

"Come in," Harry said, yanking Snape inside by his sleeve. The door blew shut behind him. Of all the things he wanted to ask, the first question that made its way to his tongue was, "How could you tell the snowstorm was unnatural?"

"Because I couldn't keep _this_ from happening," Snape said crossly, flapping his arms and making flakes flutter to the mat. He was completely covered in thick powdery snow. Harry stood and watched as Snape unfastened his cloak, shaking it and creating small piles of white that immediately began to ooze and topple.

"Sorry," said Harry sheepishly, reaching to take the cloak and hang it up. "I was just thinking that I wanted peace and quiet, and it would be nice outside if there was a snowstorm..."

"I suspect you've blanketed half the county," interrupted Snape, still sounding cross. His scarf had become tangled, and when he unwound the heavy wool, a long strand of yarn pulled away, unraveling part of it. "What did you need such privacy for? Are you planning to attempt some dangerous, illegal spell?"

"Of course not!" Realizing that he must seem rude as well as stupid, Harry gestured awkwardly at the sofa in front of the fire. "Here, come and get warm."

Without bothering to thank Harry, Snape finished unlacing his boots and strode to the fireplace, rubbing his hands together. "It isn't easy to find the Chosen One alone. When you finally do turn up away from your friends and admirers and your house elves, you make things as difficult as possible..."

"You were looking for me?" Harry's mouth dropped open. "But you disappeared! I looked everywhere."

"And none too subtly. You very nearly led the Ministry, the _Daily Prophet_ , and Molly Weasley right to me."

At that last, Harry had to grin. He'd forgotten that Snape still had many enemies -- he'd had to make a choice how much to reveal, after the battle, about Snape's life and loyalties, and he'd decided that Snape would probably prefer a measure of privacy over exoneration by having all his secrets published for the world to see. "Sorry," he said. "But you didn't really give me a choice, since you didn't tell anyone where you were going."

"Just what was it that was so important that you needed to speak to me about?"

Harry wasn't ready to answer that question. "I was going to roast marshmallows," he said as if that was still the topic of conversation. "And I have instant hot cocoa -- not the Muggle kind, the good stuff. Would you like some?"

Snape looked like he was about to complain again, but he checked himself and nodded, taking the unopened bag of marshmallows from Harry and tearing the top while Harry poured the cocoa powder into mugs, where, with a bang, it began to foam and rise to the rim. Snape came over to get a fork which he used a spell to elongate, putting a marshmallow on the tines.

"You've done this before," Harry said, somewhat surprised.

"I have not lived a completely isolated life." Snape sounded amused. "Though I also have not aired my feelings at length to the _Quibbler_."

Blushing, Harry busied himself transforming a fork of his own. He had gone on quite a bit about how grateful he was to Snape and how miserable he was that he hadn't done more to save him, before he knew that Snape was alive.

"If you were looking for me out of obligation, allow me to put your mind at rest. You owe me nothing. I shall drink my hot chocolate and be on my way."

"It wasn't obligation," Harry admitted, coming over to kneel beside Snape in front of the fire, pushing a marshmallow onto his extended fork. "It was gratitude, and..." Confusion. Regret. Curiosity. "You're the Legilimens -- you should know."

Snape thrust his marshmallow into the fire, looking thoughtful. Or hungry -- the flames made it difficult to see nuances of expression. "Anything I might know or not know because of those lessons is several years in the past. You are a young man now, not a boy."

The hearth was quite small. They were sitting practically shoulder to shoulder, both forks bobbing along the edges of the flames. It was weird to be sitting here like this with Snape, yes, but not as weird as it would have been if he still felt the way he had when he was a boy. Snape was right: he was a young man now.

"You do know, then," Harry said, "because it hasn't changed." He deliberately pressed his shoulder against Snape's. It was a simple gesture but Snape turned his face toward him.

"Suspected, perhaps. Waited for you to be certain." Snape looked back into the fire. "You aren't the first young man to have fantasies about his teacher."

Harry flushed, not feeling quite as worldly as he was trying to appear. Their marshmallows had caught sparks, smoldering slightly as one side blackened, the smoke swirling up the chimney. "I brought chocolate bars and biscuits," said Harry, watching as Snape drew his skewer out of the fire, blowing on the glowing white blob. Pinching off a soft edge, he pulled a hunk of the gooey sweet from the fork and licked it off his fingers.

"Did you?" Snape asked, though Harry had nearly forgotten what they were talking about.

Mutely Harry nodded, though the nod only seemed to be an excuse to lean forward, then further when Snape didn't pull away. Instead he licked his lips, and his eyes lowering to look at Harry's mouth was the last thing Harry saw before that mouth pressed against Snape's. He tasted a sugary burst of marshmallow as Snape pressed his mouth back. His hand wound its way around Snape's neck as he felt the skewer drop from his fingers. Something sticky slid around his own neck and Harry realized it was Snape's hand.

"Hmmm," Snape said, the vibration of it directly against Harry's lips. "If your sense of gratitude is satisfied, I can still be on my way into the snow."

Harry swallowed. "It'll be warmer here," Harry said, lifting his eyes to make sure Snape didn't actually look like he _wanted_ to go. Snape didn't. "And no, I think we left gratitude behind a while ago. This is more like --" He swallowed again, rubbing a finger over the side of Snape's mouth. "I don't know what it's like, but I want it."

With a smirk, Snape brushed his tongue across the corner of Harry's mouth. "You have marshmallow on your chin."

"If I do, you put it there." Somehow Snape's tongue on his face was the most erotic thing that had ever happened to Harry. He shivered and moaned softly, turning to brush his own tongue over Snape's. "Careful, you don't want it getting stuck in your hair. Tastes good, anyway."

"I thought it would," Snape replied rather breathlessly, latching his mouth to Harry's and pressing his tongue inside.

Harry's arms tightened around Snape's neck, pressing as close to Snape as he dared. Kissing girls had never been like this -- he'd always felt like he needed to be careful, even with Ginny who'd been an enthusiastic kisser, whereas Snape didn't seem to feel any need for caution, and pressed over Harry rather possessively. It made Harry moan.

"Very nice," said Snape when they broke apart to breathe. It was, perhaps, the highest mark he had ever given Harry on anything. "May I ask you a question?"

"Sure," Harry told him rather dreamily.

"Have _you_ done this before?"

Blushing, Harry tried to sit up a bit. His marshmallow had oozed all over the hearth. "I'm guessing you don't mean roasting these," he mumbled, gesturing.

"I believe you know what I mean."

The voice held a trace of the determined tone that Harry remembered from being warned that he risked detention. It made him shiver pleasantly. "Only with girls. And not...everything," he admitted.

Snape's eyebrows shot up. He picked up Harry's skewer with the marshmallow melting off the tines, crumbling away the darkened exterior that had fallen against the hearth and exposing the oozing white beneath. "I suppose we had better practice, then," he said, swiping his finger through the sticky center of the marshmallow and offering it to Harry.

With a soft whimper, Harry slid his mouth over Snape's finger. He didn't understand why that made his own prick throb as though someone was kissing it, but it felt so good that he lowered his mouth and licked and sucked until Snape let out a soft groan. "How'm I doing?" asked Harry, releasing the finger with a small smile.

"I think you know," murmured Snape, pressing close enough for Harry to feel that his own prick wasn't the only enthusiastic one.

"Then I want to do more than practice," Harry said, "because what I've been practicing for up until now has been you." That seemed to both surprise and please Snape, because he tugged Harry closer until they were kissing again as if he didn't trust his mouth to do anything else.

"Tell me what you want," Snape said, breaking long enough to swipe up more marshmallow and offer to Harry's mouth.

"Do I have to choose just one thing?" asked Harry, giving the wet finger a kiss before licking it clean. He knew more fluff had clung to his top lip, enough that had to be licked clean as well, until they were both breathless and a bit sticky.

"Such unnatural snow will not last very long," Snape pointed out. "It will start melting as soon as the spell weakens."

"That would only concern me if I was enchanted as well as the snow," Harry replied. He tugged his shirt off over his head and tossed it onto one of the armchairs flanking the fireplace. "I'm not under any spell unless you cast a Make-Me-Horny Spell."

Snape's gaze had gone at once to Harry's bare chest as soon as the shirt had come away. "If such a spell existed, none of us would ever have been able to concentrate long enough in school to become fully grown wizards."

Harry reached for his own trousers. "Oh, I'm fully grown," he said, wiggling out of his trousers and pants. His prick sprang up, punctuating his remark. He'd never been especially self-conscious about his body, though he supposed he should be now with a former teacher and a former foe so close, but Snape didn't seem to mind that Harry was naked.

"Did I do that?" Snape asked, sliding one hand along Harry's thigh, just brushing the tip of his erection. When he lifted the finger and collected some of the dampness at the tip to taste, Harry groaned.

Snape shifted and Harry thought he might start undressing, but he pulled out his wand instead. Pillows began springing from the sofa and speeding in from bedrooms off the living room, piling themselves artfully around them.

"Nice," Harry said, sprawling over a pile of pillows that looked a bit like overgrown marshmallows. His movement brought him up against Snape's outstretched leg. "They'll feel better against bare skin."

"Impatient boy," muttered Snape, tucking away his wand before leaning back in clear invitation.

Grinning, Harry reached for Snape's buttons. "I want to do this the old-fashioned way," he said, beginning to undo them one at a time, though he knew a spell that would have popped them all open at once. Snape looked a bit uneasy as more and more of his skin was revealed, which made Harry stop being nervous about the things he had never done before.

"I'm quite scarred," Snape warned unnecessarily. Harry could already see the purple bruises from where Nagini had attacked him as well as a number of smaller discolorations and indentations.

"Comes from saving the world." With a small grin, Harry pointed to the mark on his own forehead. "Even with You Know Who dead, it hasn't gone away." He bent to brush his mouth over a raised red scar along Snape's collarbone. "I think of them as trophies."

"The trophies go better with your muscles. Not all of us were Quidditch players."

Harry looked up in surprise from where he was working Snape's trousers off his legs. "Didn't think you noticed."

Now Snape smirked. "I wasn't far behind my Patronus that night in the forest. Though it was a bit cold to see you at your best."

Laughing, Harry reached to tug down Snape's underpants. Even through the cloth, he could see that Snape outmatched him in that regard. "It's warm here by the fire," he observed, licking his lips as the erect prick emerged. A drop of fluid bubbled at the tip. "In fact, it looks like you're sweating."

Gathering his courage, he bent and licked the head of Snape's twitching prick. It tasted salty after the marshmallows, but that didn't stop Harry from wanting more. Snape groaned softly and lifted his hips, which Harry took to mean that he was welcome to continue, so he slid his lips over the hot flesh and sucked.

Snape's fingers slid into his hair, not pressing down but urging Harry's head back. "Gently," Snape warned, his face flushed.

"Will you show me?" Harry whimpered a bit when Snape nodded, sitting back and letting Snape guide him down onto the pillows. "I might -- that is, this may not last very long."

"I suspect you won't concentrate properly on this lesson until the second try." Snape was smirking again as his mouth lowered, lips brushing back and forth across the head of Harry's cock, kissing and teasing it. "At your age, it shouldn't take you long to recover."

"Less time than to roast a marshmallow -- oh!" Harry couldn't help crying out as the lips descended, tongue moving wickedly over the head, while Snape's fingers stroked over his balls and circled the base of his cock, holding it steady. He thought he could have come just from the sight of Snape's head bobbing in his lap, dark hair brushing against his thighs, but what with Snape's hands and mouth and tongue, and the fact that Harry could feel Snape's hard cock if he moved his foot over a bit, and the little noises Snape was making that were vibrating straight through him...

He arched, thrusting deep into Snape's mouth, and barely managed a grunt of warning before his prick began to spurt. Snape's lips stayed around his cock and his hand pumped the shaft like he was milking it, and when Harry managed to look down, he could see that Snape was smirking even around a mouthful of Harry.

"Fuck! It's not usually _that_ fast," Harry panted, knowing his face was already quite red.

"How could I possibly mind that you find me..." Snape kissed the slumping tip of Harry's prick, "arousing?"

Harry exhaled breathlessly. "I wouldn't be here with you naked if I didn't," he said, aware that even now his prick was twitching a bit though Snape had lifted his mouth away. "I wouldn't have had all those thoughts about you if I didn't."

"I'm aware of the sorts of thoughts you had about me," Snape said, still managing to look pleased as he straightened up, then leaned back on his elbows, propped up on pillows.

"I didn't know enough to hide them at first," Harry admitted, leaning forward, yin to Snape's yang, now that he'd recovered enough to move. "Then I didn't want to hide them." Now that he'd done it once, it was easier to bend his head and taste the salty iridescence on Snape's prick. "I still don't." He fit his lips around the tip, sucking until Snape made one of those noises that made Harry's cock throb even though it still lay slack between his legs.

He licked around the head again, letting his mouth get used to the feel of it in his mouth before he remembered something and pulled back, looking up. "This is all right, isn't it?" he asked, stretching out on the thick hearth rug, bracing himself on pillows. Snape slid one over to him and Harry pushed it under his chest, rubbing his cheek over the upraised cock. "Like this, I mean?" he went on, nestling between Snape's legs.

"Does it look like I'm going to stop you?" Snape asked, obviously trying to sound dry but with a breathy catch in his voice. Then he slid his hand into Harry's hair, letting the strands slide through his fingers.

Harry turned his face in to the caress, moving his hand along one lean thigh. He smiled, keeping his head raised while Snape petted him. "You might want to do other things. I want that too, but I want this first."

"Anything you like," Snape dragged his fingers across Harry's mouth, just touching his lips, "though you needn't make any promises."

Still smiling Harry captured one of the fingers between his lips, kissing briefly before releasing it. "Just being here with you is a sort of promise, isn't it?" Snape looked like he was going to say something else so Harry shook his head. "I mean, we found each other in the snow," he said, perfectly aware that it sounded as though they'd been wandering over a frozen landscape clad only in rags.

"You made that snow," Snape said, but his hand had found its way back to Harry's hair, not guiding his head back down, not quite, but Harry let the motion carry his head lower, just rubbing his lips across Snape's prick.

"You still found me," Harry said, then he stopped talking, devoting his mouth to other pursuits. Snape did not argue, perhaps because he was groaning softly and spreading his legs more widely apart.

At first Harry thought that Snape was just trying to give him more room to lie between them, but then he thought maybe Snape wanted something else. He cupped Snape's balls gently in his hand, trying to roll them with the same movement he'd have used on himself if he were alone, though it felt completely different because his wrist was turned around and Snape's hung lower than his own.

Snape made a sound that was unquestionably approving, so Harry kept his hand there as he moved his mouth over the head of Snape's cock. His middle finger brushed the wrinkled skin behind the sack and at Snape's grunt of encouragement, Harry rubbed it deliberately. Snape's cock twitched in his mouth and for a moment he couldn't breathe, but then he angled his neck and found that he could take it in deeper that way.

The fingers that had been intermittently stroking his hair tightened momentarily. "You needn't try to do everything at once --" Snape began.

"I like this." Harry's breath over Snape's damp cock made Snape moan again. The sensitive pucker was quivering against Harry's fingertip, which he didn't quite dare to try to push inside, but he pressed down harder as he rubbed back there.

He moved his mouth back over Snape's prick, not sucking so hard this time, using his tongue on the foreskin and through the furrow at the tip. That bit at least fit perfectly between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, though he couldn't figure out how Snape had taken in so much of his own cock when Snape had done this to him. Maybe if he swallowed --

His mouth tightened around the head of Snape's cock and Snape made a choked noise. Grinning as much as his stretched lips would allow, Harry shifted, changing the angle again. Snape's hips were moving, sliding the shaft against Harry's tongue, though this had the added effect of making Harry's finger move against Snape's arse, which was rather arousing for Harry. Hopefully it was even more so for Snape.

"Do you wish to be warned so that you can stop?" Snape's voice had grown guttural and his fingers tightened in Harry's hair, pulling uncomfortably for a moment before releasing. "It's been a long time for me, perhaps you had better finish with your hand..."

Harry shook his head, pulling back enough to speak but keeping his lips brushing against Snape's cock. "Want you to come in my mouth," he said and slid it down again.

"Potter -- Harry -- " Snape's hips jerked upward. Bending his elbow to support his own weight, Harry wrapped his free hand around the base of Snape's cock, stroking the part his mouth couldn't quite reach. He felt Snape shudder, then felt his mouth filling. Harry couldn't decide whether it was Snape calling him "Harry" or the knowing he'd made Snape come at least as hard as Harry himself had just done that was the more satisfying. His own prick twitched again, reminding him exactly how satisfying this all was.

Keeping his mouth around the soft tip, he pulled back very slowly before releasing Snape's cock and turning his face up to smile. Snape looked completely unguarded, flushed and -- Harry's cock reminded him -- sexy. Moving his fingertip away as well, Harry slid his hand down the widely stretched leg. He was wondering if Snape had lost his voice or was just quiet after sex when the soft growl finally came.

"How was it?" Snape asked, releasing the clenched fingers from Harry's hair.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Harry said, wanting very much to kiss again, but uncertain whether his mouth would be welcomed, and not knowing if it would be rude to offer to do a cleansing charm on it.

"I should think my reaction would be enough to let you know you were successful," said Snape, with a gratifying gruffness to his voice. He had released the grip he'd had on Harry's hair but still seemed to enjoy fondling it.

Harry rubbed his cheek along Snape's thigh, "Well, there's _successful_ and there's _really good_ and then there's..." He dropped a kiss close to the juncture of thigh and hip.

"There's?" prompted Snape.

Shrugging, Harry looked up again. "There's _when can we do that again_?"

Snape laughed. That alone would have startled Harry if he hadn't seen the beginning of it twitching at the corner of Snape's mouth. Then that same mouth leaned down and rubbed over Harry's, or as near as it could given their positions. "We do seem to be marooned here," Snape pointed out. "Plenty of time to do it again, if you like."

Stubbornly, Harry shook his head. "I don't want to do it again just because we're stuck here together," he said, pulling himself up, letting Snape guide him until they were nestled against the pillows chest to back.

"You know as well as I do that this storm will only last the night," Snape said, his lips pressed to Harry's hair.

"What if I wanted this to last longer than the storm?" Harry said, leaning back against the warmth of Snape's chest. The fire had died down but was still crackling not far away in the fireplace. The bag of marshmallows lay just beside the pillows, though it looked like they had melted a bit under the heat.

"You're a young man, " Snape began, but Harry cut him off.

"You're not an old one," he said, turning his face up toward Snape's. Their gazes held for a moment before Snape looked away.

"I wouldn't have," he said, then paused, though his fingers roamed over Harry's chest until he sighed, "Wouldn't have braved the storm if I didn't, on some level --" He paused again.

Harry pulled the soft bag of marshmallows closer while Snape gathered his thoughts, dipping a finger into the not quite melted mass. The sweets were gooey enough to cling to his finger as he pulled one out of the bag. He took a lick, then offered some to Snape, who sucked his finger without hesitation. "If you didn't...?" Harry said, letting his voice ask the question.

"Wonder," Snape replied simply.

Delight rose up in Harry as he turned and lowered his mouth against Snape's, sweeter than the marshmallows, sweeter than finding himself marooned here with Snape, because neither of them would have to wonder any more.


End file.
